The Cure For Curie (Complete!)

Haste Will Only Breed Mistakes

"She's is coming around the corner now." Lydia said as she peeked out the window.

"I bet she looks pissed." Cosnach joked as he tied the long black cloak around his neck.

"She does look very upset, yes. Are we ready?"

"Yeah get into position. She'll be firing through that door any moment. I hope Saadia is good to go on her end." He replied as he sat down at the table in the middle of the small shack.

Lydia snuffed out the rest of the candles in the room, leaving one lit on the table. The aura around them shifted into tension as they were bathed in the murky shadows of the single candle. The brunette Nord woman slipped into a cubby hole near the door, out of sight. Cosnach pulled his hood up, covering his face, and waited for the mage to enter.

The door swung open with a large crash as it slammed into the wall. Sunlight flooded in, the long shadowed silhouette of the necromancer hovered ominously over Cosnach. He didn't flinch, didn't falter. He would be strong for his wife. He lifted his hand, motioning to a chair across the table.

The stern elf huffed indignantly, but after closing the door behind her, she obliged the man before her. Cosnach drew around him a calm anger that commanded her respect, or at the very least apprehension. Until she knew who she was dealing with, he would have the upper hand.

"So, you're the idiot who has stolen away with my property?" She spoke into the silence. Her sharp elven features cut harsher by the flickering candlelight, gave her an almost demonic appearance. It looked as though she had clawed her way out of Oblivion, and for all Cosnach knew of the woman, maybe she had.

"The only idiots are your own company. If this relic was so precious to you, maybe a better eye should be kept on it. I am nothing more than an opportunist who found his opening when I found your book."

"Where is it? I want it back immediately." She said, her voice taking on a razor's edge.

"Well, that depends entirely on how many Septims you've brought with you."

The woman reached into the pocket of her robes and pulled out a heavy leather pouch. It landed on the table with a thud, shaking the small candle. Cosnach nodded his agreement and flicked a small envelope across the wood. Her fist slammed down onto it, stopping it in its tracks.

"What foolishness is this? I do not have time for childish games. Where is my book?"

"There's a map in there. It'll show you where I've stashed the book. Our business has concluded." He flicked his hand toward the door.

The mage started to protest but stopped suddenly when she felt the sharp tip of a dagger in her back. Lydia grabbed the woman's arm and pulled her up from the chair. Cosnach knew that the necromancer wouldn't have time to call up any kind of magic before their housecarl would drop her. By the seething rage on the woman's face, he knew he was right.

"Your business is concluded." Lydia reiterated as she opened the door. She pushed the woman out and slammed the door in her face.

The Nord woman flipped the lock as they bolted to the window in the back of the shack. In a blink they were out in the alley. Cosnach heard the door burst open just as he shut the window and slipped out over the city wall to a waiting rope.

Adla was fuming as she barged in to the now empty shack. She marched across the room, flipping the wooden table as she made her way to the back window. Dammit! She couldn't believe she had been so foolish. This was all spiraling out of control. She took a deep calming breath as she thought about her next steps.

She was angry that she wouldn't be able to kill the thief but she hoped that she would still be able to grab the book in time. She cracked the wax seal on the envelope, and quickly pulled out the map. Rage boiled inside her once more as she unfolded the paper. It was not a map at all. It was a note. The final nail in her coffin of shame.

Suck on this!

Was all that had been written on the parchment. Underneath the taunt was a crude drawing of a skeleton making a very offensive gesture in regards to what she could indeed suck on. She would get that bastard. She would hunt this thug down to her last breath.

"Help! Guards! A violent mage has broken into my home!"

Adla froze in her tracks. She turned around and looked towards the open doorway. The Redguard woman from the Bannered Mare was standing in the street waving her arms wildly, pointing in her direction. The city guards began a frenzied run to surround the hovel. She knew she would not be able to escape but she was determined to take as many to Oblivion with her as she could. She flicked her hand, calling her lighting to her fist. In her other hand, fire. She stood tall, ready for what was to come.

"Hey you! Stop right there." A guard shouted toward her with his steel sword drawn. "You have committed crimes against Skyr--"

Screams erupted as Adla threw a stream of fire toward the guard. The man, now a swirling inferno, set four other guards ablaze. She sprayed the flames in front of her as she shot sparks of lighting into the gathering crowd with the other hand. The guards rushed forward, almost mindless.

Slashing wildly through the magic, they tried to strike a blow to the mage. Imbeciles. The clang of armor rang as her electric malice caused them to fall to the ground in a seizing panic. Fire burst forth immolating them by the handfuls. This would be easier than she thought. She sidestepped as she moved to make her way toward the front gates.

Her magic waned slightly as she fired blow after devastating blow. She ducked behind the blacksmith forge as she popped the cork of a blue bottle. Mana flowed into her, rejuvenating her power once again. The screams were delightful as she conjured a wall of fire, pushing it into a group of men organizing their next wave of attack. The sick smell of melted metal on flesh filled her nostrils, giving her a renewed vigor.

She shrugged her shoulders as she switched her lighting to a powerful soul trapping spell. Might as well fill an empty soul gem or two on her way out. She threw the purple cloud toward the men in front of her, forever binding them to her will. Adla raised her hand to immolate the men with another stream of fire when she suddenly fell foward.

The necromancer landed hard on her knees, causing her to cry out in surprise. She peeked over her shoulder to find an arrow jutting tall from her shoulder blade. She reached with her other hand to pull it out as the guards slowly circled around her seizing their new opening.

She winced as she wrenched the bolt from her skin and bone, her stomach threatened to empty it's contents as the pain rushed through her. She tossed the arrow in front of her and time seemed to stop. It couldn't be. They had killed her or at the very least she had been bed ridden. The scouts had assured her that the woman was near death.

A dragonbone arrow lay on the ground before Adla Raf. There was only one soul in all of Skyrim that possessed such bolts, the Dragonborn. Her eyes traced the exquisite craftsmanship of the rare medium. The ivory white of the bone, shaped delicately into a fierce and dangerous tip. It just couldn't be.

Adla looked up as the guards descended on her to take her into custody. No. She would not hang for her crimes. She dug deep into her reserves. A powerful otherworldly yell boomed into the circle of men as her fire cloak spell screamed into existence around her. The guards of Whiterun ran widly, trying to extinguish the flames catching their armor. Through the inferno curtain she saw them fall one by one by one.

Whistle. Thunk. She saw it before she had felt it. The blood rushing down her cheek. Her eye lying in her lap. Tendrils of red dangling from the once white edge. Her vision swam. As another arrow joined the first in her skull, Adla Raf's last thoughts were of the beautiful Dragur Matron and her blissfully warm embrace.